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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872665">centred &amp; uncensored (moving still)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunroom/pseuds/sunroom'>sunroom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Universe, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Handcuffs, Jealousy, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Possessiveness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:01:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunroom/pseuds/sunroom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung says, distracted, eyes glued to his phone, “should I really be bored at a time like this?”</p>
<p>Time being: Wonwoo here. Handcuffed. In Soonyoung’s lap. Seated on Soonyoung’s dick.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>centred &amp; uncensored (moving still)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <span class="small">They Are In Love And They Are Nasty</span>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p3">“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung says, distracted, eyes glued to his phone, “should I really be bored at a time like this?”</p>
<p class="p3">Time being: Wonwoo here. Handcuffed. In Soonyoung’s lap. Seated on Soonyoung’s dick.</p>
<p class="p3">“What do you think about Jeonghan hyung’s new sweater?” Soonyoung asks. His mouth is set in a contemplative pout, head tilted like he’s surveying a menu, the matter at hand as trivial as what dinner may be or what he might wear out tomorrow.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung’s been on his phone, muttering to himself for the past ten minutes or so while Wonwoo has endeavoured on his lap, trying his best with his hands cuffed behind him and his legs forced wide apart, no real purchase on anything to help him move. Staying put has been an equally exhausting mission.</p>
<p class="p3">It’s not ideal and Wonwoo grows antsier with each soft musing noise Soonyoung lets out that’s not for him, but sometimes he just has to let Soonyoung’s needy little heart wear itself out and let him come back to Wonwoo on his own terms when he bores of suspending his attention that’s very obviously and desperately desired. It's a game.</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo was willing to bite, to be good. Patient. Go along with this exercise in cockwarming rather than riding, like he was promised when he was enticed (dragged) from Seungcheol’s room. But bringing other people into the sanctity of this particular intimacy…</p>
<p class="p3">“Jeonghan hyung?” Wonwoo doesn’t stutter and that’s more than he can say for his heart.</p>
<p class="p3">“Yes,” Soonyoung says, saintly, “our Jeonghan hyung. I helped him, you know,”</p>
<p class="p3">“Helped him?”</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung’s lips tilt upwards, “Yes.”</p>
<p class="p3">“How?”</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung has the audacity to look puzzled. “How do you think?”</p>
<p class="p3">“Uh,</p>
<p class="p3">“With his new sweater,” he pouts, expression clouding with enough sincere hesitation to fool anyone who hasn’t been attuned to him since they were kids who didn’t know they were kids. And also, anyone who doesn’t sit on his dick on the regular.</p>
<p class="p3">“What did you think?”</p>
<p class="p3">“Eh…”</p>
<p class="p3">“You don’t trust me,” Soonyoung says, jutting out his bottom lip further in a dramatic portrait of sadness. Wonwoo wants to pinch him. Wonwoo wants to suck on his lip like he means to swallow him whole. He lets a shudder run through him, instead, and leans into Soonyoung when he cups his hip and strokes faintly, “How do I be good to you if you don’t trust me, hm?” </p>
<p class="p3">“I do!” He almost falls forward as the momentum of his vehemence catches on his bound wrists but he tenses his thighs with all he can, newfound strength from the updated gym regimen proving itself an ally at last. It steadies him but leads to his inadvertent squeezing around Soonyoung like he means to cut off both of their circulations and for a moment Soonyoung’s amalgamation of cocky confusion is stripped to something hazy, gone.</p>
<p class="p3">A rough hiccup bubbles up Wonwoo’s throat.</p>
<p class="p3">“You do what?” Soonyoung says, only shakier to the trained ears (Wonwoo). He relaxes back into the pillows, the shutters slamming down as he once again projects such bored indifference Wonwoo would be hurt and humiliated if it were anyone else, if he weren’t as versed in this song and dance like any other he’s performed a million times.</p>
<p class="p3">This thing they do, it’s more a performance really. Soonyoung’s lifeblood, the place where he glows, where he basks, where he bestows his best self. Wonwoo would never deprive him of that, not even in here, where no one can see. Especially here. For each other. Here, where they are both performer and audience, here where it's sanctified by the divinity of devotion between them. If Soonyoung wants to make a play of their desire for each other, Wonwoo will not be the one to stop him.</p>
<p class="p3">The epiphany that he would hardly turn down any indulgence he could afford Soonyoung was one Wonwoo met when they were both ripe, unsteady things, before the ground beneath them had stopped rolling and their fates felt it belonged to everybody but them.</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo had met it with… surprise. Cautious, curious. Cradled the revelation in his hands, like snow that would melt. Except it hadn’t, except it had whittled into adamantine over the years and now it’s a coat of reverence on his palms, percolated into his bloodstream like metal poisoning, glinting in his gaze every time he beholds Soonyoung.</p>
<p class="p3">He knows. He knows and there isn't a thing he can do to change it.</p>
<p class="p3">For Soonyoung, anything.</p>
<p class="p3">“T-trust you…”</p>
<p class="p3">“Uh oh,” Soonyoung sings, reaches for his phone, “sounds quite weak, don’t you think? Are you asking me or telling me?”</p>
<p class="p3">“Soonyoung-ah,” the despair is clear in his voice, “put it down, I trust you, I trust you,”</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung hums, fingers tapping his screen in a pensive pause, “Bit vague, that. How do you trust me?”</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo glares. <em>Trust you to be a bastard.</em> Soonyoung raises a brow, like he knows exactly what’s running through Wonwoo’s mind. He does, probably.</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo sighs. Relaxes his shoulders, lets the tension bleed out of him to reflect the words he’s about to speak. “Trust you to take care of me.”</p>
<p class="p3"><em>Trust we belong to each other. </em>Soonyoung may be a bastard who gets off on Wonwoo’s unwavering need for him but at least Wonwoo never comes out of it empty-handed. (The same can usually not be said for his ass.)</p>
<p class="p3">“Do you feel good right now?”</p>
<p class="p3">“Yes,” he nods furiously, beyond caring about letting Soonyoung sit satisfied with the victory of making him succumb so soon. The more undone he appears, the faster Soonyoung’s satisfied, the faster <em>Soonyoung </em>will come undone, the faster he’ll fuck Wonwoo like he means it. Foolproof, win-win, everyone gets a pony— or a tiger or whatever. Wonwoo will settle for an orgasm. Preferably tonight.</p>
<p class="p3">“Good,” Soonyoung beams. Relieved excitement frissons through Wonwoo’s chest. ”You’re happy, then. I’m happy. We’re happy! Enjoy,”</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung goes back to his phone.</p>
<p class="p3">If the choked noise Wonwoo makes sounds like an awful close symptom of weeping, well. Bullseye.</p>
<p class="p3">“Soonyoung!” Wonwoo is always above whining but when it's Soonyoung... Soonyoung is too ridiculous to bear and it just compels that side out of Wonwoo.</p>
<p class="p3">“Yes?”</p>
<p class="p3">He gives a weak roll of his hips, not enough to please either of them, <em>“Please,”</em></p>
<p class="p3">“Oh,” Soonyoung sits up a little. It nestles his cock deeper into Wonwoo, the angle hitting different. Wonwoo is so starved, so worked up it almost sends him cross-eyed. “Am I upsetting you?” Soonyoung says sympathetically, stroking Wonwoo’s hip again. “Shall I leave?”</p>
<p class="p3">“N-no, no, stay, please stay,” Soonyoung won’t actually leave, at least Wonwoo thinks, but on the off chance he decides he wants to see Wonwoo cry at his hand tonight, Wonwoo is also not above begging.</p>
<p class="p3">The worst thing that has ever happened to Wonwoo was Soonyoung discovering this fact.</p>
<p class="p3">“Then what is it?”</p>
<p class="p3">“I—“ Wonwoo makes a frustrated noise at his throat, gaze veering down to where they’re joined.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung’s eyes stay purposefully on Wonwoo’s face. “I can’t know if you don’t ask.”</p>
<p class="p3">“Help,”</p>
<p class="p3">“With what?” Soonyoung grips his chin, pinning their gazes, “Are you having issues with the new choreography? Shall we leave for the studio?” he pats Wonwoo’s head softly, “It’s late, but for you my Won—”</p>
<p class="p3">“No!” Wonwoo’s sure he’s flushed to his chest, looking unhinged enough to qualify for a horror movie poster.</p>
<p class="p3">Being with Kwon Soonyoung is… precious. Every day Wonwoo’s force of patience and understanding is forged anew, restrengthened like alloyed metal. Every day is a lesson. Above all, being with Kwon Soonyoung has taught him frustration can <em>definitely</em> kill a man. And if it hasn’t, Wonwoo will make history.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung lies back, seemingly unconcerned once again. “Then be specific,”</p>
<p class="p3">“Fuck me,” Wonwoo says without preamble. His cock is leaking between his spread legs, a string of precum connecting him to Soonyoung’s stomach where it bobbles on with his woefully weak rolls.</p>
<p class="p3">“Better,” but Soonyoung still looks bored, eyes fixed on the ceiling, not even bothering with the very naked very much speared on his cock Wonwoo anymore. Wonwoo could claw at him. “But I said be specific, didn’t I?”</p>
<p class="p3">
  <em>“Soonyoung,”</em>
</p>
<p class="p3">“Take your time,” he closes his eyes, absently patting Wonwoo’s thigh. His hips rise as he settles about into a comfortable sleeping position, splitting Wonwoo a little further on his cock and the need steadily boiling over inside Wonwoo explodes.</p>
<p class="p3">“Soonyoung please, I need you to fuck me,” he lets himself fall forward, chest to chest with a surprised Soonyoung, foreheads together, his mouth open in a stream of thoughtless babble, “I’ll take it however you want, please just fuck me, okay? I can’t do it alone, need you so much Soonyoung-ah, need you to break me, always you, want you Soon—“</p>
<p class="p3">“That’s it,” suddenly they’re sitting up, <em>properly</em> sitting up and Wonwoo blanks out as he takes Soonyoung in to the hilt, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, good boy,” Soonyoung’s hands are all over him, cupping his cheek, stroking his hair, his throat, squeezing his shoulders, gripping his hips, his hair, pulling him closer, “that’s all you needed to say,” he wraps an arm around Wonwoo’s waist, kisses him wetly on the lips and snaps his hips sharply.</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo chokes on a moan, losing all control over his body. All he can do is bury his face in Soonyoung’s neck and let himself be fucked silly on his lap.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung is skilled with his hands where it counts, he’s deft and nimble in several defining ways, but by god, if a close favourite of Wonwoo’s isn’t the way Soonyoung uses his hips.</p>
<p class="p3">In another world, where perhaps Soonyoung was less indulgent and Wonwoo was better trained in stamina, he could have endured another hour of teasing because <em>this,</em> the way Soonyoung breaks his hips upwards like’s malleable and makes Wonwoo feel every inch of his cock dragging inside him, stuffing him full to the gut, it would still be worth it, more than words could express.</p>
<p class="p3">As it happens, Wonwoo can only withstand so much goading and Soonyoung is much more indulgent of Wonwoo than he pretends to be. It’s perfect.</p>
<p class="p3">“You suck so much,” is what Wonwoo gasps into Soonyoung’s neck, skin sheening with sweat and his breath.</p>
<p class="p3">“Hmm,” Soonyoung says, genuinely sympathetic this time. He reaches behind Wonwoo to grab a handful of his ass in each palm and spreads him out as he forces him down on his cock. Wonwoo’s tastes vertigo on his tongue, the world spins behind his closed lids and the raw need burning in his core swells.</p>
<p class="p3">“I hate you, Soonyoung-ah,” Wonwoo sobs, fucked out.</p>
<p class="p3">“You’re so good,” Soonyoung rumbles deeply, just as wrecked.</p>
<p class="p3">He goes back to reverently roaming Wonwoo’s body, like it’s the first set of hips he’s ever held, the first Adam’s apple he’s ever kissed, the first pair of thighs he’s ever swept over devoutly, the first arms he’s ever danced his fingers down, the first wrists he’s ever circled and pressed possessive thumbs into to leave imprints, to claim the pulse there, the first fingers he’s ever slipped between his own, all the while murmuring sweet praises about Wonwoo being perfect for him, Wonwoo gorgeous for him, Wonwoo his to use, his to please, raspy, hot, the exact timbre and husky that haunts Wonwoo into his dreams sometimes and causes him to arise aching and sticky.</p>
<p class="p3">Something warm and sonorous unfurls in Wonwoo as he thinks <em>yes, my first, my Soonyoung, me- Soonyoung’s first, Soonyoung’s only.</em></p>
<p class="p3">“So much,” Wonwoo says breathlessly between kisses, desperately trying to move with Soonyoung, wishing he could use his hands, to hold Soonyoung closely, to strangle him, “hate you so much, such a terrible tease, hate you the worst, hate you,”</p>
<p class="p3">“Wanna paint my face, baby?” Soonyoung replies, cupping Wonwoo’s jaw and pressing kisses on his mouth that miss the mark every time he fucks into him, dripping, sloppy.</p>
<p class="p3">Evidently, Wonwoo would love nothing more. With a lost, pained groan, he shoots all over Soonyoung’s stomach and his own, because what the <em>fuck</em> kind of question was that and how was Wonwoo not to instantly blow his load without being spared a hint of warning?</p>
<p class="p3">He lets out a prolonged moan when Soonyoung reaches between them to milk the last of the cum from him and arches so acutely in Soonyoung’s lap his wrists burn from the strain on the hard plastic binding them.</p>
<p class="p3">He is going to be so bent out of shape tomorrow, possibly for the next three days. He will nag Soonyoung at every chance and if later he snaps any pictures in the mirror of the marks his rendezvous with Soonyoung leave on him like documentation in a case file or exhibition pieces, well. That’s between Wonwoo and the nights there are Soonyoung shaped hollows next to him. Or perhaps, if he’s feeling generous, their KaTalk chatroom.</p>
<p class="p3">It’s Soonyoung who’s feeling generous tonight, slipping out of Wonwoo as he lays him on his back and strokes himself over Wonwoo’s stomach instead of fucking himself to completion inside a highly sensitive, utterly boneless Wonwoo—though Wonwoo wouldn’t be averse to being used that way, as Soonyoung surely knows.</p>
<p class="p3"><em>“God Wonwoo,”</em> Soonyoung groans, staring down at Wonwoo, lambent, beautiful, Wonwoo’s, <em>“god</em> you should see yourself,” he fists himself furiously with one hand, the other digging into the mattress by Wonwoo’s shoulder, partially caging him in as he holds himself up.</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo is half content to watch, half rueful he can’t tease or fondle Soonyoung, just to see him lose every last inch of the iron-fisted dancer’s control he has over his body and writhe like all his joints and nerves are loose, just to hear those truly uninhibited, conquered sounds.</p>
<p class="p3">But it’s enough, ultimately, to watch him splatter his own load over the existing mess on Wonwoo’s tummy when Wonwoo whispers <em>come on Soonyoung-ah, let me have you, I want you, </em>and almost collapses over Wonwoo as he lets his other hand come down to cage Wonwoo fully, leaning in to attach their lips, using his hips to rut out the last of his orgasm on Wonwoo’s stomach, sticky, cum-slick, audibly wet, obscene.</p>
<p class="p3">When Soonyoung lifts up to breathe, he doesn’t break away completely, instead trailing his mouth down, teeth snagging across Wonwoo’s throat, collarbones, sternum, kisses, tongue dragging, tasting, savouring, until he arrives at Wonwoo’s navel and a loud slurp sounds.</p>
<p class="p3">Painfully, Wonwoo’s cock twitches, a deep hiccup of Soonyoung’s name escapes his mouth.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung kneels between his spread thighs and holds him by the waist, gently like his glass hips will shatter if he applies further pressure, despite the half-moons already embedded there liberally from when they were fucking, today, yesterday, last week.</p>
<p class="p3">He traces the outline of Wonwoo’s waist, his midriff, the V-cut of his pelvis, his clean-shaven pubis area, the wet crease of his thighs, his limp cock, all with his mouth, every inch, letting Wonwoo catch a glimpse of the creamy fluid he scoops up onto his tongue before swallowing and bowing his head again. His star. Wonwoo loves him so much.</p>
<p class="p3">Only when Wonwoo is clean of everything but a shiny coat of Soonyoung’s saliva does Soonyoung raise his head, mouth puffy, cheeks pink and shining with a streak of cum from Wonwoo’s skin, just like the pale streaks stuck in the fringe of his wildly disheveled hair.</p>
<p class="p3">He looks positively ravished, incurably cute, smiling a sweet crescent smile at Wonwoo from between his thighs.</p>
<p class="p3">“You look gross,” Wonwoo says casually, like he doesn’t immediately ache to be back on Soonyoung’s cock at the sight of him like this, like a root-deep part of him that never stops bruising from tenderness where Kwon Soonyoung is concerned doesn’t ache like he's dying.</p>
<p class="p3">Soonyoung laughs and rests his head on Wonwoo’s heartbeat.“You’re pretty when you beg,”</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo swallows his fluttering heart, “Again, the worst. Untie me?”</p>
<p class="p3">“A little longer,” Soonyoung says, alarmingly drowsy, “need you to forget you want to kill me,”</p>
<p class="p3">“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo warns, trying to wiggle out of the Soonyoung snare he’s under.</p>
<p class="p3">A sigh replies as Soonyoung snuggles into Wonwoo.</p>
<p class="p3">“Soonyoung? Soonyoung-ah! Yah, Kwon! Don’t you dare go to sleep!”</p>
<p class="p3">Wonwoo can’t tell if the light snore he hears is a joke or not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from BŭRGŭNDí by KAMAUU! i really rec this song ^^</p>
<p>i’m dying to write some long, better fleshed out soonwoo but it’s hell season (finals) and these short barely plotted oneshots are the only thing i have time for :c (+ doing wonders for my sanity) i’ll be back with something better when i get room to breathe :D </p>
<p>thank you for reading, i hope you are warm and safe wherever you are.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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